


The Fox and The Hound

by raqueljardim



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, Dog - Freeform, F/F, Fox - Freeform, Greek, Hound - Freeform, Lesbian Character, Mythology References, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27264589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raqueljardim/pseuds/raqueljardim
Summary: Two constellations fall from the sky in a stormy night. Two girls are born and are intertwined by history and the divine. In this tangle of bonds, discoveries and misunderstandings, how can love prevail? How to recover the balance of a world immersed in chaos?Luana embarks on a new life with her sister after fleeing her parents' home and city. Now, in the capital, even in a school crowded with thousands of students, she never fails to be shaken when the eyes of a mysterious girl cross hers.When she least realizes, Luna finds herself caught up in a conflict that involves Ancient Greece, ancient gods, a hound, a fox and a romance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! This is a story of mine which I'm very fond of: I hope you appreciate it. Please keep in mind that English is not my first language – if you note any grammar mistakes whatsoever, please contact me. Thank you!

They were many, the years of my existence in the dark. Human beings did not know me and I therefore did not know the human beings. As philosophy and beliefs grew, however, I left the backstage and entered the scene. The doubt that accompanies you from the beginning to the end of your life. Bitter regret, in the roof of the mouth, on the brink of death.  
The question that no one dares to answer.

As humans became interested in me, I became interested in human beings. I followed wars, treaties; births, deaths. Over time, it gets boring. The same mistakes, repeated over and over, along a timeline too small for me to comprehend. I stopped caring about humans six or seven centuries ago.  
But some things still catch my attention, now and then; a shadow in the corner of our eyes that makes us turn our heads, involuntarily. Occasionally I find myself obliged to watch human misfortune, and its failed attempts to alleviate it.  
This was the case a few moments ago. Months? Years? I do not remember. Everything is very recent.  
Of the stories I carry, evidence of human misfortunes, this is one that I find most interesting. In this one, the attempt to repair the irreparable intrigues me. The human resilience to move on haunts me.  
But I'm getting ahead of myself.  
We need an introduction. A beginning.  
There is nothing more appropriate for this story to begin with than an end.  
With chaos.

_When Luana was born, the stars rained from the sky._   
_They fell like water, illuminated the heavens like rays of light_   
_Too bad nobody noticed._

Another rainy December night, yet another busy day on the streets of the Capital. Cars honked over the asphalt, people - who looked more like ghosts - floated from one side of the street to the other, wandering. On the sidewalk, a single calm figure. A tramp.  
The tramp liked to call himself a magician. He had denied his self-proclaimed talent for years: he grew up in the typical school-college system. Studying to get good grades, having good grades to go to a good college, going to a good college to get a good job.  
Everything in vain.  
The management company in which the he worked for decades went bankrupt, leaving him unemployed and, later, homeless. It was then that he rediscovered his childlike love, the passion left aside when he grew up. He performed long-forgotten tricks for passing children, often accepting only smiles as payment. They – the grownups – thought of him as crazy, foolish, unstable: every kind of name they give to those different. But the old man was not beaten. _They are the fools_ , he thought, _for not believing in magic_.  
Life seemed to show him magic now and then. No cheap tricks; but the magic that moves the world. For many, a miserable experience, that of living without a roof; for the old man, however, everything was going well.  
Until the children grew up.  
This scared the old magician like nothing had before: even the youngest learned to look away, to think of his future, to leave fantasy behind. His magic tricks had as their only spectators the sky and, at dusk, the stars. You can imagine his surprise when, that night, the stars came against him.

  
They descended quickly, in a flash: as if they had detached themselves from the sky. And they weren't just any: they descended in alignment: two constellations, to be exact.  
The old man tried in vain to remember their names. He had taken some astrology classes when he was little, but they were left out as he grew up. Useless subject, they said. Frivolous.  
It only remained to observe them, to say goodbye. The stars fell quickly, and for the last time the old man set his eyes on the constellations of Canis Major and Canis Minor.  
When the show was over, he was static: there was proof, once again, of the magic of life. It took heaven to come to Earth, but finally, people would understand. The world would change direction. Astrology would be mandatory again. Magic would be...  
But as he looked up, the old man was faced with the same world as before. Heads down, eyes gazing the asphalt.  
Incredulous, the man asked:

"Have you seen the stars?"

  
One or two children raised their heads, but, to his disappointment, immediately lowered them without saying a word. Not even a murmur was given in honor to the stars or the magic.  
The stars were falling again: now, from the old man's face.  
 _How foolish I am_ , he thought, _for believing in magic_.


	2. Last Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The protagonist of the story is presented, as well as her surroundings, albeit briefly.

Luana was always the last to know what was going on in the village where she lived; no one cared enough to tell her so. Sometimes it seemed just destiny, especially that day.

Nobody told her that would be her last Christmas, and that it would be the last time she would see her home. The Universe was the only one that seemed to try - the howling wind, the leaves flying and the strong sun announcing a new day. It was certainly not an ordinary day, and Luana would have noticed it if she had stopped to observe the world.

It was a confusing day for everyone - suddenly the dark possessiveness of the girl's parents about her just faded; they got tired, maybe. And her older sister, always so distant, suddenly decided to approach her. Human surprise is something that I still don't understand: on that strange day Luana crossed the door for the last time, even though she had never even thought about leaving.

***

At first, it was another ordinary morning. Not that Christmas was so monotonous, quite the opposite: her family seemed to treat her more calmly, and her favorite sister - the one who lived in the capital - came to visit. In the early hours, however, she did what she always had done: she woke up early and went to the backyard, the only place in the house that was hers. She watered the plants, even though it was rain season, and allowed herself to date the waning moon for a few minutes. She breathed the fresh air of the bushes, felt the earth caress her feet. Only then she went back inside and cleaned the house as she always did; slow and alone, being careful not to wake up her sisters.

You may have heard of country families who like to put similar names on their children, and Luana's was one of those. Her sisters were six: Lúcia, Luzia, Luciana, Luísa, Luara and Luma, from the oldest to the youngest. Luana was the youngest of the seven daughters of the Oliveira family and, apparently, that title indicated the obligation to do every house chore.

After sweeping, dusting and wiping, Luana went to the bathroom outside the house, following the same path that led to the backyard. She was the only one to use that bathroom, with a leaky sink and a damaged shower. _Why?_ , you might ask. For Luana, there was no question nor answer. Things just were, and she had no interest in thinking about how it would be like if they weren't.

Luana took a quick shower, avoiding looking at the glass stall. Still, she still felt her reflection watching her, its eyes burning on her back. It would not go away, no matter how hard she tried.

After the shower, Luana went to the small chamber she called her room. Before, it had served as a pantry, and it was there that Luana slept and changed clothes. There was an old bed, a table without a chair, and a rotting wooden wardrobe. Meanwhile, her four sisters - the other two had already moved - slept in a large room, with double beds and mosquito nets. Luana entered that room only to change the bedding.

Among the ragged clothes in her closet, the girl took the least worst piece: a faded blue dress, but it had no tears and fit well. She did not even care about the gray color of the dress - in fact, she hated blue. She also put a crucifix around her neck - a habit imposed by the family's faith. As if God somehow looked after her. Held her in her place.

How ironic it was, considering the girl's situation.

Her mother knocked on the door just when she was done with her hair. She pinned it in a simple tail, not caring about the rebellious wires that bounced.

"Come help me with lunch. Lucia and Luzia said they are coming", murmured the mother. Her words went through the cracks in the door, barely audible, and landed on the floor like dust.

The two were the older sisters of the seven; Lucia, 24, was the one who, according to her parents, all other daughters should follow: she had married young, with a well-to-do man, and at twenty-five she already had a four-year-old son. Luana would stay in her room until the next sunrise if it meant not having to see Lucia. Of all the sisters, she was the one who treated her with the greatest contempt: when she was a little girl, she pulled her hair and beat her; when she was older, she did her best so that the parents would give only the worst to the youngest.

Luzia, 25, however, was all that could have been done wrong. She left the village at 18, went to college in the capital. She was not married, and she had never introduced a man to the family - which raised certain suspicions. But she rarely needed to give these satisfactions: she only visited the city at the end of the year, to celebrate Christmas, and sometimes, Easter. Besides, she definitely felt the same disgust that Luana had with her parents. It seemed to bring them together, if only a little.

The girl followed her mother into the kitchen.

Even with the loud noise of the room - boiling pots, chopped vegetables and the gospel song that Luana's mother murmured - she could hear her sisters' laughter from the bedroom. They all spoke incredibly loudly, as if they were the only ones in the world. In the meantime, Luana had to be constantly on the lookout not to make too much noise. An audible grunt and the girl would spend minutes listening to her father's complains.

It was not long until Lucia arrived, around eleven thirty. She always came early, to help her mother and inspect her sisters. With her superiority as an eldest daughter, she distributed a kind of crooked compliment to each sister, along with a yellow smile. She usually didn't even look at Luana, but that Christmas was different: maybe she knew, in her heart, that it was the last.

The woman turned to the youngest and addressed her with a few words:

"I see you're still... well, Luana." She looked at the crucifix that rested on the girl's chest.

The girl gave a small smile.

Coming from Lucia - or from anyone in the house - that was a tremendous compliment.

***

Late morning and early afternoon went by smoothly. The five sisters - well trained, as their father would say - did not speak a word to Luana and, luckily for all (or almost all) Luzia did not appear. Not at first.

It was two in the afternoon when the door to the house was unceremoniously opened.

Luana sat right in front of the entrance, with her back to the kitchen cabinet; the reflection of the glass doors bothered her. Sitting at the table were his parents and his five sisters, silent. Lunch was Luana's favorite meal, precisely because of the silence it demanded. In the eyes of her family, lunch was a sacred time, especially at Christmas. In those quiet moments, she had the freedom to watch his sisters and pretend to be like them. Pretending to belong.

The beauty of her mother, Maria, although aged, was undeniable: she had dark brown curly hair, even though it was gray at the root and tied in a bun. Her eyes were a deep green and her dark face was marked with spots, which changed places when he smiled. Antonio, however, if he had already been handsome, showed no signs. His skin was the color of sour milk, his hair was light brown and licked, as if it stuck to his head. His eyes were the color of honey, but his gaze was bitter. He was always frowning and groaning.

Even so, all Luana's sisters were perfect combinations of their parents' genes, beautiful and harmonious. The hues of their eyes moved between those of his parents: green, brown, gray green, greenish brown. The same thing happened with the hair: straight, wavy or curly, all varied in definition and volume, but matched with the features of each girl.

During the brief lunch hours, Luana admired that beauty: she could feel it among the particles of dust and rays of sunlight that escaped through the curtains; she could almost taste it. It was a pity that she couldn't steal it for himself.

When Luzia entered the kitchen, that must have been the scene she saw: her silent sisters and Luana, restless, trying to reach them. The girl was out of place, easily identifiable as something displaced. Her eyes were a dark shade of brown, shared by no one in the family. Her hair was black as night and had a strange texture, as if it changed depending on the weather and the mood (but it never seemed to be styled). The girl was always... different. At least her parents still had the decency to let the youngest eat at the table, not in a dark dungeon or in the back of the house. From Luzia's experience in that house, that was not impossible.

Luzia looked at Luana, Luana looked at Luzia. Her brown hair fell over her shoulders in beautiful curls, her spots formed figures on her face and arms. She could be an exact copy of her mother, were it not for the eyes, green, but a little drawn to brown. The color of spring.

A few uncomfortable seconds passed before Luzia remembered why she was there.

"Blessing, mother. Blessing, father." She said or, rather, she spat. The words came out quickly, awkwardly, crashing into the couple's face. The request was answered with a murmur and a nod. In that family there was no habit of being affectionate.

The woman didn't bother to eat - she just sat in the vacant chair at the long table, which spanned the entire length of the kitchen, and waited for everyone to finish. The silence was loud and uncomfortable, and it seemed to last forever.

When all the dishes were collected and washed by Luana, Luzia started.

How strange it was for Luana to see her sister speak after so much silence.

Something has been said about a boarding school.

"Few expenses?" The couple asked.

The woman nodded.

"I organize everything, don't worry. Just a little money every month..."

The parents shook their heads and agreed.

The girl's name was not mentioned once in the conversation, but it seemed to be in the air, widespread, at the bottom of the discussion. There was also a slight taste of freedom, of peace; Luana just couldn't say whether it was a liberation for her or for her parents.

An hour later Luana had a small suitcase in her hand, carrying her few belongings. Goodbyes were not made, tears were not shed; Luana didn't even understand what was happening. As she crossed the kitchen, she made one last look out the window, into the yard.

As she left the house, the only world Luana knew fell apart behind her back.


End file.
